Dear Diary
by Kittyreaper
Summary: It's times like this I feel like Veronica Sawyer. [Fandomstuck one-shot-thing featuring Supernatural and Homestuck in 2009; I have no clue what category to put this in, so I just went with crossover RIP- ]


**Warnings: Foul language and slight violent themes**

 **Pairings: Blink-and-you'll-miss-it Superstuck**

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 _Dear diary,_

 _It's times like this I feel like Veronica Sawyer._

… _Wait, do I even know who that is? I mean, this is 2009, and Heathers was released in, like, the eighties, wasn't it? How old is my main demographic, again? Thirteen to fifteen?_

 _Yeah, forget the analogy. The point is, high school's a bitch, especially to new kids like me. It's my first day, and, already, I've been shoved in at least five different lockers, given both a wedgie and an unwanted toilet bath, and thought of about fifty viable ways to kill either everyone in this building or myself. It's only lunch._

 _If I mysteriously vanish for more than a week, I recommend performing a search and seizure on Creepypasta. That guy practically screams "potential serial killer." Shiver._

I glance up from my empty table in the corner. Angsty, teenaged fandoms had swarmed the cafeteria the moment the bell rang, making me very, very glad I'd decided to pack my lunch. And yet, the sea unanimously parted as a trio of upperclassmen casually made their way to the center table.

 _I even have my own Heathers._

 _(Should I keep using this analogy? I mean, it's accurate, sure, but do I even know who these people are?)_

 _Seeing as most of my time at Tumblr High thus far has been spent getting the living shit beaten out of me, I haven't learned much about them, but apparently there are three fandoms no one screws with. No one. They call themselves "Superwholock." I have no idea why their names mush to that, nor do I know why anyone would willingly go with a mush so stupid-sounding, but apparently my freshie opinions don't matter, so I'm going to shut up now._

 _I swear to god, though, if I ever make a best friend to that extent, I'm never mushing our names together so ridiculously. It'll probably be something along the lines of "_stuck." The blank's going to be where some part of their name goes. Yeah, that sounds nice. "_stuck."_

 _Holy crap, is it healthy to eat that much salt? The one in the trench literally just took a salt shaker, unscrewed the top, and poured the whole thing onto his food. And his friends aren't doing anything about it! They're just sitting there, continuing the conversation like this is perfectly normal. I guess even Superwholock's got issues._

 _Ugh, salt guy is so annoying. I can't tell if he's wearing that trench ironically or not. I don't think he is. He's too serious-looking to do stuff ironically. What a lame-o. Although, I guess his buds aren't any better. One of them's wearing 3D glasses and an absurdly long scarf, but the other's fine. He's just… letting them. It's irritating my sixth fashion sense. Stereotypical popular girls they are not._

 _Oh shit, he saw me. I looked at them for a moment, and salt guy saw me. Quick, eyes down. Just put some cake in your mouth and pretend it doesn't make you want to puke. Okay, nope, that's not working. That's not working. Abort abort abort abort abort-_

 _Okay, I'm back. Had to rush to the bathroom and toss those cookies. Why is Betty Crocker the only food we have in the house?_

 _Aaannnddd now all of Superwholock's staring at me. Great. Because this is just what I need right now. This is exactly what I need at this point in my life._

 _Thank you, universe._

 _Salt guy's standing up. He's looking right at me. I think he's walking over here. Shit. Fuck. I don't want to talk to him. What if he beats me up like all the other upperclassmen did? I need to abscond. How tho? Maybe I could pull out my hammer, throw it at him, then run away while he's knocked out and-_

 _Oh, nevermind, too late._

Salt guy slams his hands on the table. "'Sup, nerd?"

"Uh, wow, rude." My nose scrunches in distaste.

He pauses. "What?"

I continue, "I mean, geez, manners much? You just waltzed on over here, got right up in my face, and called me a nerd. I don't know you. You don't get to do that unless I know you."

His eyes narrow. "In my defense, you're an obvious nerd."

"How so?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You're kidding, right? The glasses, the braces- hell, your shirt has an atom on it."

Cue the shit-eating grin. "Technically, so does yours."

He groans, "You just made a science joke. How are you not a nerd?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I may be a nerd, but at least I'm not the biggest. And besides, aren't we all a little nerdy, considering we're personified fanbases?"

"Well, whatever." He rolls his eyes. "The name's Supernatural. You?"

"Homestuck. I'm new."

"Yeah, I kind of figured. What was up with the frantic writing, and that mad dash to the can?"

"Just doing homework-" I cringe. "-And you can blame Betty Crocker."

Supernatural chuckles, "You mean the baking company?"

I flash back to many a day spent absconding from cake-wielding comic artists. "That vile substance advertisements dare to call delicious is the food of demons."

"Demons?" He automatically snaps to attention, leaning closer. "You mean Betty Crocker's run by _demons_?!"

"Um…" I blanch at the close proximity. "No, I wouldn't say that. I may hate their products with a burning passion, but the ones in charge are probably just regular people trying to make a living."

He slowly retreats, unblinkingly holding my gaze. "If you ever find evidence of Betty Crocker being connected to demonic activity, be sure to call me."

"I, uh, don't have your number?" I add a nervous laugh to the end. _Oh god, why am I doing this?_

"Oh, right, new kid. Gimme a moment." Having returned to a relative state of normality, he reaches into his coat pocket and removes a slightly crumpled business card.

 _The Supernatural Fandom_

 _Paranormal hunter_

 _XXX-XXX-XXXX_

I slip it into my backpack. "Thanks… I guess."

"No problem." He gives an admittedly kind of cute half-smile and ruffles my hair, much to my complaint. "Don't be afraid to get in touch if you have any monster issues; I don't bite." With that last quip and a wink, he turns and leaves.

 _Dear diary,_

 _Did I just get a guy's number?_

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 **A/N:**

 **This is why you don't leave me unattended with nothing to do for long stretches of time. I write crappy fandomstuck things and draw crappy fanart.**

 **I'm planning on keeping this a one-shot, but I might add more one-shot chapters or something if I feel like it/get bored later.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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